


When have I ever been into blondes?

by carrowmetohell



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: 1x12, 1x13, Angst, Comfort, Drinking, F/M, Hurt, Multi, Sam Keating (mentioned), Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-11 09:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8974402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrowmetohell/pseuds/carrowmetohell
Summary: "Why do we still do this Frank?""Because she saved us an' we owe her."





	1. Atrophy

Bonnie felt desperate. How did Annalise always manage to do it? To just turn a case around when everything came crashing down on her? When the odds were stacked against her, she'd win yet Bonnie would lose. It didn't matter if the jury had hated Annalise or her client from the moment a case was presented, she would always win. Annalise knew know how to change their mind before a verdict was reached. The Keating lawyer had even won cases where the judge had blatantly disagreed with her. Annalise's ability to defend in court knew no bounds. It helped that she also always had the L1s on her side. Even when they'd believed a client was guilty or unworthy of a defence they had helped her to win. There was none of that loyalty with Bonnie, and especially not with the K5. They thought she was a joke.

The K5 were supposed to be helping Bonnie but they refused. They thought she was weak and hadn't seemed to trust in her from the beginning. Perhaps it had been Annalise's constant put downs or maybe they just never believed the demure blonde was capable of holding her own in open court. However, she couldn't really blame them, she didn't really believe it herself. Regardless, they agreed with the prosecution and that was nail enough in her coffin. The K5 believed her client had done it but Bonnie couldn't. She simply couldn't represent a rapist, it went against everything she stood for. This woman was innocent; she had to be. Now Bonnie just needed to prove it. Unfortunately it looked liked she'd be proving it alone. She simply did not possess the fire Annalise had to force them back into ranks. They all believed she was weak.

Bonnie knew full well the K5 would never dare talk back to Annalise like they had talked back to her. It was infuriating, insulting even. She wondered why they doubted her? The slip up in court had been rather public but she felt they had doubted her before that. Did everyone really see through the cracks in her façade? Bonnie prayed they didn't, she hoped they thought she was weak because of Annalise. That would be far better than the truth.

Then again, the truth was that Bonnie was losing and it burned. Bonnie was supposed to be Annalise's right hand woman, yet here she was, unable to win a single case on her own. Just what kind of defence attorney was she? Bonnie wanted to cry but it was fruitless. What she needed was results, not another emotional meltdown.

She had to think like Annalise- no, she had to be Annalise. But that was impossible for someone like her. She didn't have the strength or resolve. Bonnie was tenacious but she wasn't powerful, she just didn't have the same raw intensity that Annalise managed to portray so easily. "Argh!" Bonnie yelled, slamming her fists onto her desk surface. The action was futile. What she needed was something potent to tackle her current frame of mind.

That's when it hit her. To become Annalise, she had to act like Annalise. Vodka was the answer she sought. If nothing else it would numb her senses enough to get through the night. Then after her defeat in court tomorrow she could continue the cycle, drink until she forgot. Drink until the case and her failures mattered no longer. A ragged smile crept onto her lips as she pushed herself up from her seat. Bonnie knew where Annalise kept her best vodka. It was in the bottom draw of the desk in her office. She knew the Keating kept her trademark crystal glasses there too. Might as well go the whole 9 yards if she truly was to imitate the woman.

Bonnie's hands trembled as she poured the first glass. This didn't feel like her. It felt wrong, it felt like a mistake. The moment she'd poured a generous measure she slammed the bottle back onto her desk. Bonnie picked up the glass hesitantly, glancing around the darkened room as if to search for intruders. What if Annalise were to walk in on her? Bonnie couldn't deny the slight thrill she felt at the idea of being caught. If Annalise caught her acting out she would be certain to turn this whole mess around.

Bonnie waited for a moment before picking up her glass and draining the measure with a wince. Christ, that was strong, She coughed, the rough spirit burning her throat. Bonnie had never been much of a vodka drinker and now that she tasted it again she remembered why. It tasted like damn paint stripper. The blonde found herself wondering where Annalise saw the appeal.

Bonnie's third glass still made her grimace. Yet she drained the volatile liquid from the expensive cyrstalware nonetheless. This time Ms Winterbottom placed her glass down atop her desk roughly, her actions made heavy as the alcohol settled in her veins. 

She glanced behind herself, at the door to Annalise's private study. Bonnie had intended to imitate her boss but she hadn't been so stupid as to take her desk. The temptation had been there but she would never have lived taking Annalise's throne down had she been caught. Bonnie had wondered how it felt for Annalise, to be so in control, so respected and revered.

Footsteps broke her silence. "The boss ok with you dipping into her bar?" A deep, alluring voice enquired.

Bonnie glanced up, her eyes carrying the loathing she usually reserved for herself. Of course it was Frank. He'd been the one to find her yesterday in tears as she picked broken glass off the floor. Glass she'd dropped after hearing about Sam's death on the news. How apt that Frank would find her in meltdown again. He always knew more than he let on. Bonnie knew that much, even after a few glasses of the famous Keating vodka. What irked her is that his presence meant Annalise was right, Bonnie always needed someone to fix her.

Frank had attempted to comfort her, more snap her out of her sorrow yesterday so that she didn't get fired again by Annalise for being pathetic. Bonnie wasn't even sure if she had really been crying for Sam. She had been so upset to learn Annalise hadn't trusted her enough to inform her of his death, that she'd felt like an outsider in what she considered to be her home for the past decade. Bonnie was desperate to earn Annalise's trust back but all she seemed capable of was screwing this case up.

Sometimes Bonnie thought Frank had it easy. He wasn't a lawyer, Annalise didn't expect him to carry the firm in her absence. He could dip in and out of the legal proceedings as he pleased. Yet even in her drunken haze, Bonnie recognised that train of thought was unfair. She was merely jealous. Frank had it just as hard as she did. They both skated on thin ice where Annalise and their work was concerned. They always had.

"Works for her." Bonnie retorted, pouring herself another glass defiantly. If Annalise would drink to the grave, so would she. Even if it was damned vodka. Bonnie suppressed the urge to vomit as she glanced the clear liquid. Maybe she'd drink it in a moment, give her stomach a chance to recover its lining.

"Just go talk to her." Frank said with a frown, inviting himself to sit down opposite her. He knew Bonnie needed him right now, and after their last encounter it was the least he owed her.

"And say what?" She asked, looking into the crystal glass disdainfully as if it held the answer to her question. "I have no idea how to win in this case. Please Mommy give me the answer?" Bonnie took a swig of her drink, not caring if she threw up anymore. Everything hurt. What did it matter?

"Maybe not in those words." Frank offered, a little uncomfortable. What Bonnie said was true. Annalise was their Mommy in every sick sense of the word.

"If I go up there, she'll give me that look and I'll start to cry and I'll have to quit. Tell me that's not true." Frank remained silent and Bonnie had her answer. No one believed in her anymore. She poured herself a fresh glass, not wishing to meet Frank's pity filled gaze.

But really he wasn't sure how to process what she said. Frank cared about Bonnie. They'd known each other for the best part of a decade now. Strife had forged a bond between them that one simple case couldn't fracture. At least he didn't think one case could. This was just a phase, he told himself. Annalise would recover and they'd be back to their old tricks in no time. Frank hoped that's how everything would turn out.

"Why'd you lie to me about Sam? I asked you to your face what happened and you said you didn't know." If no one believed in her, caution didn't matter anymore. Screw it. She needed to know this. Why was everyone lying to her and then having the nerve to not believe or trust in her? Bonnie's eyes bored into Frank, willing him to answer. She'd expected mroe of him. She had expected him to tell her the truth.

"I'm not doing this while you're wasted." Frank replied, standing up and turning to leave. There was no getting through to Bonnie when she was like this. That woman was one of the only people in that house that was more self-destructive than he was. She was gunning for a fight and he wasn't interested in catching the bait. Bonnie had enough on her plate without losing her only ally in here.

"She told you not to tell me right?" Bonnie continued, reluctant to let him go without her answer. Her question caused Frank to pause and he turned back around to face her. A moment passed before he decided how to reply. "You blame her?" He asked, shrugging his arms out to the side. The answer was a sidestep. They both knew that.

"No." Bonnie replied softly. "But it's why I can't go up there."

Frank averted his gaze, lowering it awkwardly. He'd excepted some resistance to his question but this was Bonnie. Where Annalise was concerned she always felt like a failure. It was a sentiment the two had in common. Annalise had a way of getting beneath your skin and stirring up emotions of inadequacy in you. She always pushed and pulled at your ability, trying to mould and twist you into a creature of her own creation; a creature that depended on her approval.

Bonnie took another sip, finishing her drink slowly. Frank heard her place the glass back down on her desk, glancing back up at her as she did. The woman before him looked defeated. Gone was the strong woman that helped him whip the students into shape, the woman he drank with, laughed with. He hated seeing her like this. "Come on Bon, let's get you a coffee." He offered, standing somewhat awkwardly by the doorway to the hall.

"Why do we do this Frank?" Bonnie blurted out

"Because she saved us an' we owe her." He replied, his voice sounding weak, lacking his usual resolve.

The alcohol blurred her inhibitions and Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Do we really still believe that after all these years? After all we've seen her do with the other students? People are so throwaway with her, we're expend-"

Frank stepped forward towards her desk suddenly, cutting her off. "Shut up," he growled guilt washing over him the moment he noticed the look of trepidation on Bonnie's face. "Look, let's get a coffee, you're not thinking straight after half a bottle of that shit. And you don't even drink vodka so come on. Coffee. Now."


	2. Midway

***REVISED EDITION*** 

Bonnie threw her hands up in mock surrender, keen to move on from his outburst. "Yes boss, whatever you say boss." Her response was playful and there was a flirtatious glint in her eyes he found he enjoyed. Frank couldn't help but like the way 'boss' had sounded on her tongue. His gaze flickered up to her slender wrists and his brow crinkled. Now really wasn't the time or place for him to be thinking about how good they'd look pinned down above her head. No, not when he had Laurel to think about. That and Bonnie was way too out of it to realise how that had sounded to him. He felt something stir within him, a sensation he'd become familiar with whenever he was in the blonde lawyers presence. To think he hadn't even liked her when they first met. That all seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Why don't you just help me finish the bottle Frank? Just like we usually do." Bonnie offered him an enticing smile, the kind he usually couldn't resist. She picked up the bottle, waving it in his direction with the cap off. Resisting temptation had never been his strong suit and he really could do with a drink.

"You have court tomorrow Bon, would be awful unprofessional to drink anything more now wouldn't it?." His tone dwindled as he followed the bottles sway with keen interest. Bonnie could be good company when she wasn't acting so prissy and uptight. That and she'd always had a fight in her that he admired. Frank liked his women strong. The women he was serious with anyway.

Bonnie pushed harder, wearing down his convictions and tempting him to join her. She was determined to equal the playing field. Bonnie recognised that he'd spotted the bait, the next step was simply to hook him with it. "Alternative suggestion Frank. How about you catch up and then we get coffee." Bonnie kept the smile light, it danced across her lips playfully. "All you have to do is meet me half way. I'll be half sober by the time you're half drunk." Bonnie concluded her statement with a wink, pouring a fresh measure of vodka into the crystalline glass. "Don't tell me you've never wanted a taste?" She asked, dropping her tone to a more sultry level.

Oh he'd wanted a taste alright, but that wasn't what she was offering him. Frank smirked, scratching at his beard. But of course Bonnie was right. If he started now then he could meet her half way and they could get coffee before turning in for the night. Then it'd be straight to court in the morning just like old times. Except these weren't old times anymore. Everything had changed after he'd killed Lila. Frank still remembered how his hands had felt around her throat, how the light had faded from her eyes as she ceased to exist. That was how it was supposed to have been with his father. Sam should never have helped him get out of jail, he found himself thinking suddenly. Sometimes he still believed he deserved to rot in there.

However, some things had stayed the same, Frank was still Annalise's 'odds and ends' guy and he still seduced a new brunette L1 with each fresh intake but Bonnie was-well she'd passed the bar. A bitter taste filled his mouth, one that Frank struggled to swallow. It wasn't the first time he'd felt jealous of Ms Winterbottom's success but now wasn't the time for that. Now was the time for them both to band together, his petty resentments didn't matter now. Ever since the K5 had screwed everything up in their lives by killing Sam, Bonnie and Frank needed each other more than ever.

Frank released a shaky breath and Bonnie raised an eyebrow. "Frank?" She questioned, watching him with sudden concerned. She's started to lower the bottle, a frown marring her expression.

"It ain't nothing Bon." He replied but she didn't seem convinced. "Aw hell with it, why not." He stated, returning to the seat opposite her and reaching for glass she had filled for him. Frank drained its contents in one, slamming the glass back down as he waited for a refill.

Annalise's vodka of choice ripped at his throat, burning with acidic satisfaction. Frank didn't normally opt for the clear spirits. He was more of a beer and whiskey guy. But still, alcohol was alcohol and free was always good. At least it was free until Annalise crucified them both for taking advantage of her supply. Bonnie grinned at him, a genuine smile for once and she poured him another measure, mentally noting it was his second glass. "You know I had four of these? Maybe five, I'm not so sure now…"

Frank nodded, picking up the glass once she had finished pouring. He was certain this was a heavier measure then the ones she had opted to imbibe, but then again, Bonnie had been desperate, maybe she'd been just as heavy handed with her own drinks. Bonnie did have the look of a woman wanting to forget her own name and Annalise's vodka was certainly the perfect drink for that. He downed his second glass, slamming the crystal back down atop her desk. "Another!" He exclaimed, quoting a film he couldn't quite remember.

"Sure," Bonnie replied with a smirk, pouring him a third glass. She picked up the crystal goblet before he had a chance to take it and inspected the liquid. "Funny." She muttered, musing over a concept he was certain went above and beyond his station. Bonnie merely found it strange how such a pure liquid could hold so much pain and anger within it. Drinking could make you forget, make you feel you were strong again or bring the weight of everything you felt crashing back down on you. It had the power to build or destroy. She could see now the allure it held for Annalise. Bonnie could imagine her drinking alone, fighting the effects of the alcohol until she finally succumbed to whatever drunk induced mistakes she was bound to make. Maybe vodka would be the only thing that Annalise ever allowed to have control over her. The thought was concerning indeed. Bonnie frowned, worry flooding through her. She just hoped one day Annalise would actually let her in. But with things as they were, that seemed painfully unlikely.

"Sure Bon, it's hilarious." Frank replied, taking the glass from her and freeing her from her thoughts. Their fingers touched for a brief moment and he felt a familiar electricity course through his veins. Frank wondered if she felt it too. He always hoped she did but her expression betrayed nothing. Bonnie watched Frank's eyes glaze over with hunger, a hunger that soon disappeared as he shook himself free of its restraint.

He downed the glass, meeting her gaze with an intensity he reserved for a special few in his life. He opted to pass her the glass instead of slamming it down on her desk this time. "So, you think you can turn this all around?" He asked, clearing his throat as he watched her carefully. Conversation had to flow, the subject had to change, something. Frank had found himself distracted in a way he hadn't anticipated and he needed to bypass it. Yet he hadn't prepared himself for the guilt that would follow his question.

Bonnie slumped back into her seat, her mood shifting back to self-defeated. "I don't know Frank, maybe?" Guilt washed over him as he watched her self doubt take over. Bonnie took a swig from the bottle and he reached forward in protest. "I'm not Annalise I can't do what she does, I-..." Tears clouded her vision and she turned away from him, wiping her eyes with a fierce motion.

"Hey, hey, it's alright." He said in a soothing voice. "It'll be ok Bon, it always is. Just-eh, pour me another one and I'll drain my next from the bottle. Then we get coffee and I'll cook us something to sober up Delfino style." Bonnie nodded in agreement but said nothing. She poured her colleague his drink and watched him swallow it in one. Bonnie proceeded to pick up the bottle and bring it to her own lips, she barely got a hint of the foul liquid before Frank pulled it away from her and finished the bottle off. There had been much more vodka left than he had expected. He suddenly felt rather nauseous.

"Frank?" Bonnie asked concerned, noticing the colour drain from his skin rather suddenly. "Frank are you alright?"

He nodded in response, clutching his stomach. "How in holy hell does Keating put that shit away?" He asked, praying he would not vomit.

Bonnie laughed softly, "I wonder how in 'holy hell' Annalise does a lot of things." Frank smiled at that, pleased to hear her in better spirits.

"Coffee?" He asked, thin lipped as he still battled the sudden onset of nausea.

"Coffee." Bonnie agreed.


	3. Rumination

Bonnie pushed herself up, using the desk to steady herself. “I can’t let you fall asleep there you know?” She muttered, stepping towards the chair Frank was now slumped in. In the single moment she had taken her eyes off him to stand, Frank had settled down and shut his own. It was funny how everything in this house seemed to happen in a single moment. There was never time to think, just react. “Annalise hates it, but you know that.” The statement felt hollow as she said it. Bonnie knew it meant very little when Annalise wasn't going to be coming down to chastise either of them. Truthfully, Bonnie wasn’t sure when Annalise would be back with them. She just hoped it would be soon. 

Frank shifted in the chair, breathing deeply. Bonnie was concerned he had managed to slip into a deep sleep already. His eyes had not been shut for long but she had known him to drift off into a hibernation like state at worse times. Annalise never missed an opportunity to remind him of the occasion he fell asleep during her proceedings; and that wasn’t after half a bottle of her finest spirit. Bonnie was certain Annalise would not allow him to forget. She humiliated him every time she regaled the story to the latest batch of L1s. The woman had a nasty habit of not letting her associates forget their mistakes. It was as if each and every transgression was permanently logged against them with no hope of redemption.

As the years passed by Frank had fought the impulse to fall asleep a little harder but in the early days when the L1s would be over working cases for Annalise, he would find himself a corner and snooze. Annalise would always be so angry when she found him. She’d berate him like he was a child in her class missing all the important content. 

Bonnie found herself wondering why it even mattered that he slept through it. Annalise had never believed he would pass the bar. Why had she encouraged him to pay attention to law deliberation that she never allowed him to take part in? It didn’t make any sense. But neither did a lot of the things she did. The blonde had just never questioned her till now. Bonnie had always believed that Annalise had some kind of plan, some idea about what would happen next. It had always felt like Annalise held all the cards but now it felt like their reality was slipping away and Annalise had lost control. What did that mean for her or Frank? Where did Keating’s associates stand when their saviour fell? They were nothing without her. And now Sam wasn’t even there to hold the reins anymore.

Bonnie felt tears prick at her eyes but shook her head defiantly. She wasn't going to cry again. Enough tears had been spilled over that man and they changed nothing. It appeared the vodka was making her rather more sullen than she had intended. She really needed that coffee. 

Bonnie placed a hand on Frank's shoulder, shaking him gently. “Hey,” she spoke softly so as not to cause alarm. Frank had reacted poorly to being woken from sleep in the past. She’d learned that the hard way when she was an L1 herself and Annalise had demanded her to fetch him.

Bonnie sunk into the memory, recalling it as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. She had a unpleasant habit of fading out of reality and being pulled into the past whether she wished to relive it or not. It had been something she'd tried working on controlling with Sam but to no avail. He'd seemed to particularly enjoy how vulnerable those sessions had made her. The realisation didn't quite make her skin crawl as much as it should have. Bonnie hated that about herself. 

She remembered herself heading to the basement of the Keating house, knowing Frank had gone down there earlier for some peace and quiet. She'd had long hair back then, long enough to nervously tuck behind her ear whenever she felt anxious. Bonnie had wished Annalise had given her some other task to do as there was something about Frank that made her feel uneasy. He felt like danger in a way she couldn't explain. It was something more than just the violent aura he had. He made her feel like he might be able to see more of her, than she ever wanted to show. She felt naked under his gaze and it put her on edge. It was strange to think they hadn’t exactly got along now that things were so different. But she had been right about him. Frank was dangerous. 

Bonnie had stepped onto the basement stairs hesitantly, peering into darkness. "Frank?" She'd called, "are you down here? Annalise wants to see you." She had hoped it would be that easy but upon hearing no response she knew she'd have to go down and get him. He must have come down here to nap and that meant he'd need waking up. Bonnie flicked the light switch on her left, hoping the sudden light might cause him to stir. "Frank?" She called once more, only to be met with silence again. 

At least until she heard a pained groan. Bonnie frowned, stepping forward. It didn't sound passionate but she really did not want to walk in on him having sex with one of her peers. That was something she could definitely live without. The young woman descended the staircase into the basement slowly, ready to retreat at the first sign of nudity. Bonnie crept forward, peering over the banister when she saw him, tossing and turning frantically on the floor. "Frank!" She called, instantly concerned. Bonnie rushed down the stairs and over to him without hesitation. A mistake she hasn't made since.

His eyes flashed open at the disturbance and he sprung up to his feet, grabbing her arm and covering her mouth in one swift motion. Frank pushed her forcibly against the wall closest to them, releasing her and raising his fist to strike her. Bonnie’s eyes widened and she'd cried out in protest, the sound a muffled combination of fear and surprise against his hand. It took a moment for recognition to register across his features but it was all too late. He could see the terror in her eyes and guilt washed through him. "Shit. I'm sorry!" He lowered his fist briskly, but kept his hand over her mouth. "You can't tell Annalise this happened." He'd begged her. "Promise me you won't tell her. Please!" 

Bonnie nodded meekly, knees weak. "I'm going to let go of you now. Don't do anythin' stupid 'cause I'm not here to hurt you." Frank released her and she released the breath she'd been holding. "Annalise wanted to see you." She whispered, taking a small step away from him. 

"Don't tell her and I'll explain what happened. Please. Just give me a chance. Please." Something in his eyes spoke to her because she nodded and stepped out of his way. "I need a minute to collect myself." She said, voice shaking. Frank shot her a concerned look as he smoothed his rumpled shirt down. "I don't deal well with bein' woke up. It's why I came down here but I'm sorry. I should have known Annalise would send someone down after me." Frank wiped his sweaty brow and groaned, wondering if he looked in anyway presentable for his boss. He exhaled raggedly before heading towards the stairs with his usual swagger. He shot Bonnie one last look before heading on up, leaving her to compose herself. 

Bonnie was pulled back to reality when he spoke. “I’m awake.” He claimed drowsily, reaching for her hand and running his thumb over it. “Wide awake.” He added, standing up and yawning. 

“Of course you are Frank.” 

“Hey I am!" He protested, offering her a sleepy smile. "Look at me, my eyes are even open now." Bonnie rolled her eyes but she was really fighting her impulse to smile. There was something about Frank that was different. There always had been. "Now come on, let’s see what’s in this so called kitchen of hers."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My plan for this chapter really changed as I started writing, I hope that doesn't make it feel like filler!
> 
> Next chapter should be posted soon.


	4. Delfino Style

Bonnie followed Frank into the kitchen, kicking her shoes off sloppily in the corridor. Without the heels she stood much shorter than Frank but her feet felt grateful for the respite. “I’ll put the coffee on.” She said heading over to the sink, kettle in hand. Frank offered her a warm smile and scratched his beard. “You do make better coffee than me.” He stated as she turned on the tap, filling the kettle with water enough for two.

“Is that you or Annalise speaking?” She asked, putting the kettle on boil and folding her arms coolly. Usually the thought of being useful to Annalise made her feel whole but right now, the sentiment irritated her. It was like he was trying to compliment her through Annalise’s words. The alcohol was giving a hard edge to her feelings and Bonnie felt despondent. She just wanted to forget all about Annalise; for the rest of the night anyway.

“She won’t let me make it for her anymore.” Frank admitted, heading over to the fridge but not taking his eyes off his co-worker. “It doesn’t really matter.” He added with a shrug but Bonnie could see that it did. Even something as trivial as making a cup of coffee could make you feel like a failure with Annalise.

Bonnie bit her lip, unsure of how to comfort him. “She doesn’t forget the time you burned it.” She said simply, settling for the truth.

“That woman doesn’t forget anything.” He replied, a soft sigh escaping his lips. The kettle roared as it neared the end of its boil and the two stood in silence, waiting for the bubbling to cease. Bonnie reached for two clean mugs in the cupboard above her and make them both a cup of instant coffee. “I can show you how she likes it. She refuses to drink the instant but I don’t think it’s too bad.”

“Thanks Bon,” he said, the suggestion meaning more to him than he wanted to admit. Bonnie understood exactly how he felt. She’d been in his shoes before, for less and for more. Now it felt like they all wore them. Even the K5 were getting a taste. At least the idea that Annalise would need her coffee again was cause for hope. They’d get through this. They had to.

Bonnie took a teaspoon from the countertop, stirring the coffees she had made. She left her own on the counter, picking one up to bring to Frank. “I’ll leave it by the cooker,” she said, placing it on the counter next to the stove. “Cheers Bon, guess I should really get this show on the road.” He took a pan out of the cupboard nearest him and placed it on the top. 

“Mmm, what do we have here?” He asked, opening Annalise’s fridge and peering inside. The shelves were relatively bare except for a couple of fresh pasta packets, a jar of sauce and box of eggs. Frank groaned, he wanted to cook something and not just heat up some damn processed pasta of all things. 

“Annalise don’t really keep this place too well stocked now does she?” He joked, opening a cupboard to his left in a search for olive oil.

“Annalise doesn’t like to cook much.” Bonnie muttered in response, blowing the steam from the top of her mug. 

“I always wondered if those two ever used to eat.” Frank opted for the eggs, grabbing the carton and pulling out a jug of milk. It wasn’t going to be much but at least it should help them wake up in the morning a little fresher than if they went to bed on an empty stomach.

“Sam didn’t cook much either.”

“What about you?”

“Did I cook for them?” She asked a rosy blush creeping up her pale cheeks. Of course she had cooked for them. She’d waited on them hand and foot when they had let her. The line between associate and maid had been blurred between the three. Those lines blurring into even murkier water when Sam had still been alive. The Keating’s had been a complicated couple to work for but Bonnie had felt like she belonged with them. 

“I meant do you cook much?” He clarified, cocking a brow at her reaction.

“Oh,” she replied softly. “Occasionally. I never seem to have much time for cooking.” She quickly attempted to steer the conversation further along. “I know you like to cook. You look comfortable behind the stove.” It felt like a lame statement but Frank did look good in the kitchen. He seemed at ease, natural and care free but with the definitive swagger he claimed Delfino men were renowned for. Plus she’d heard plenty from some of the women he’d decided to wine and dine with a little Delfino magic. 

“Yeah I like to cook.” It was Franks turn to feel the heat rising up his cheeks. He knew exactly what Bonnie had heard about his cooking exploits from some of the previous L1s. Suddenly it felt rather cheap and he found himself wishing she didn’t know. That was Frank all over, always messing up the important things in his life. “Could you see if there’s any pepper about?” He asked in an attempt to divert attention away from the topic at hand.

“Sure,” Bonnie turned from him, searching for pepper in the spice rack that had belonged to Sam. Frank turned up the gas and lit the stove, warming up the pan with a dash of olive oil. He cracked the eggs along the side of the pan and began to scramble them. 

Bonnie watched him in silence, passing him the pepper. He thanked her, adding a splash of milk to the pan and a healthy amount of pepper.

Bonnie leant on the counter next to him, rubbing her arm. “It smells good.”

“You know me Bon, strive to impress the ladies.”

“You want to impress me?” 

Frank shrugged, shaking the pan. “Couldn’t hurt, could it?”

It was Bonnie’s turn to shrug. 

Suddenly Bonnie stumbled, crashing into Frank. Her slip had caught him off guard but he stood unphased. Frank held onto the blonde lawyer, steadying her with his own body. “Easy there,” he whispered into her hair. She could hear the growl underlying his words. 

“I-” Bonnie lingered in his arms for a moment longer than she should have, pushing herself away from him when she began to focus again. “Sorry.” She said quickly, backing away from him.

“Don’t be.” He offered, keeping his tone even and light. Frank wasn’t sure if she had misinterpreted his desire for irritation. But oh god he wanted her. Feeling her body so close to his own just amplified him. She was warm, her hair soft and she smelled like coconut. Frank wanted to claim her as his own but the frightened look in her eye suggested otherwise.

He never wanted her to look at him like that again.

“Are you alright?” He asked quickly, dropping the spatula into the pan and raising his palms towards her in a non-threatening gesture.

“I don’t know.” She mumbled, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. She hated this feeling. The one that clutched the bottom of her stomach and pulled it down through the floorboards into the earth. It felt like losing your footing, that terrible sinking feeling that comes with fearing you might fall. 

Bonnie felt tears prick at her eyes but she didn’t want to cry again. It was so frustrating to have her pain bubble under the surface whenever she got close to somebody. Frank wasn’t some guy she could seduce and have sex with. He wasn’t someone that didn’t mean anything to her and that’s what brought the fear out. Everything she had ever loved had been used against her. Bonnie couldn’t let that happen again.

“Hey, hey it’s ok-or it’ll be ok. I mean it’s usually always shit with us but it’s always ok you know? We still got each other.” Frank spoke eventually, bringing her back into the room and out of her own mind. He had a way of doing that for her. His voice grounded her. Even when her fraying emotions were amplified by a little Keating vodka.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” She admitted, sounding exasperated.

“Bonnie this ain’t you talking. You’re the strongest woman I know, well with the exception of Cruella Deville up there.” Frank smirked, hoping to alleviate the situation somewhat but the woman before him didn’t seem convinced. “Bon you see weakness here but I see strength and you know why?”

She shook her head into his chest, keeping her eyes shut.

“’Cause I see you here. I see you now and you’re crying, trying to hide it but I can see the tears streaming down your cheeks.” He took a slow step towards her, gauging her reaction before taking another. “You see it as weakness but I know damn well you’ll be in court tomorrow as if this never happened. You’re going to stand up there and face whatever comes. Even if you don’t think the verdict will go in your favour. That takes guts Bon. That’s the real strength you have. You’re resilient as hell. You just gotta see it how it is.” Frank closed the gap between them, reaching up to wipe a tear away.  
Bonnie flinched at the contact but did not move away, instead she opened her eyes and they stayed perfectly still. Content in one another’s gaze. 

Suddenly Bonnie wrinkled her nose. “The eggs are burning.” She said, turning away from him to wipe her eyes as she silently contemplated his words. She would remember them tomorrow in court and smile. Frank always knew what to say. With him she didn’t feel alone.

“Shit!” He hissed, snatching the spatula up and scrapping semi-burnt egg from the bottom of the pan. “Aww fuck.” He complained. Bonnie crept up beside him, peering into the pan. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.” She squeezed his arm, an unspoken reassurance and thank you for his words.


End file.
